


something like fate

by Bobaleia



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, Friends to Lovers, set before Attack of the Clones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27904366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bobaleia/pseuds/Bobaleia
Summary: When a quest to locate Boba Fett goes awry, Leia finds herself in the past, face to face with a very handsome stranger named Jango... and a great deal of questions, not the least of which is how is she ever going to return home?
Relationships: Jango Fett/Leia Organa
Comments: 11
Kudos: 48
Collections: Star Wars Rare Pairs 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ekevka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ekevka/gifts).



The tunnel ahead of Leia narrows and narrows until it seems as if there is no point ahead larger than a single mote of dust. The air is dry, though it carries the scent of ancient incense, as if whispers of rituals long forgotten still lingers within the stone temple. Leia tries to take a deep breath, assuring herself that she’s been in places more dangerous than this before. After all, isn’t everywhere safer, now that the Emperor is dead?

But then again, if the galaxy was safer, why was she here, chasing after her brother who was chasing after a relic? “Luke, I don’t really have the time--” Leia begins, following after her brother, who’s disappeared down the long winding hallway of the newly-discovered Jedi temple.

He spins to look at her, but keeps walking backward, his blue eyes as bright as a lightsaber. “We’re so close to a relic of incredible power, Leia, just think of--.”

“Our goal is finding Boba Fett, not tracking down mysterious tokens,” she replies. Her tiredness carries through her voice, even if her actions don’t show it. The bounty hunter had, according to data Han had sourced, been sighted with a small being that Luke swore sounded just like his old master, Yoda. Why and how the bounty hunter found such a being, no one knew. Leia, ever the skeptic, doubted any of that was true. But with Han and Lando on another mission, tracking down force-sensitive children lost during the war, she and Luke had taken on this quest.

Or fool’s errand, if she’s honest with her assessment.

It at least keeps her from thinking too much of her own future in this strange time of almost-peace. There are no more battles to fight, no more speeches to give. There’s nothing to distract her from her own loneliness. Though she has Luke, her brother spends most of his time with the new Jedi recruits, a calling Leia doesn’t share. That being said, she’s not quite sure _what_ her calling actually is. Mon Mothma wants her to go into politics. Other leaders of the Rebellion have suggested Leia could put her efforts into the military, keeping the peace.

All Leia wants, though, is a place to call her own. Not a new bunk in a military barrack, nor a suite of rooms that would only be hers as long as she holds office. She wants… everything she had once had, on a planet now long-gone.

It’s a foolish wish, and yet, it tags at her heels as she chases after Luke, down the winding hall, until she catches up with him in a vast antechamber. The walls are painted with ancient inscriptions, none of which she can read. In the center sits a single glowing orb, as if the planet had stolen its own moon and placed it there.

“We found it,” Luke whispers. “The ancient orb of Master Taunvhe.”

Leia hadn’t expected the ancient treasure, crafted by a long-forgotten Jedi, to be quite so small. When Luke carefully pries it from the pedestal, it’s not even large enough for him to need both hands. She reflects on all the work they’d done getting here, and hopes that the orb’s size is no reflection of its power.

“Let’s get it working and get out of here.” Leia shivers. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this place.”

Luke nods, settling on the bottom step of the dias. With his free hand, he pats the empty space next to him. She settles there, and when he holds out the orb, she places one hand on top of it. The small sphere is warm to the touch, but otherwise, utterly unimpressive. “And now?” she asks.

‘Now we focus on our question: where is Boba Fett?”

Right. SHouldn’t be too hard. And after they find him, Leia can… get back to trying to figure out what to do with her life. Tme passes. Leia sits, holding the orb, trying her hardest to focus on the image of the bounty hunter. Luke, meanwhile fidgets.

“Shh,” she says. “We need to hurry up and get this over with, and I’m pretty sure the magic won’ t work--”

“It’s not magic!”

“Then what is it?”

Luke groans. “It’s… it’s just _The Force._ The connection of everything--”

“I’d rather not be connected ot a bounty hunter.”

“THt’s not what I meant!” Luke shakes his head. “Heck, I just wish… i wish Old Ben was here!”

THe ground below them starts to shudder. Leia’s breath catches as she tries to steady herself, all while still holding the orb. A moment later, the orb begins to glow. “Luke?” she asks.

“I… I think it’s working?” he suggests, but fear creeps into his voice. “I just... “

“Wish you had Master Kenobi here instead of your useless sister?” she mutters. Or at least, she tries to, because as she speaks, the wind inside the temple begins to swirl, whipping faster and faster, throwing debris into the air. Leia screams, once, as it seems like the whole temple has begun to crumble, and then, her world goes black.

* * *

Her vision clears moments later, except she finds that all she sees is completely different than the view of the dusty temple. She seems to be inside some sort of small ship, no larger than an X-wing. Her head aches, which is enough to make her think this musn’t be a dream, though she certainly wishes it was. Through the cockpit window, she can see very little beyond a few large shapes of buildings, and apparently ceaseless rain. Had she somehow been thrown through space through the magic of that orb?

If so, she couldn’t wait to tell Luke that the Force really was magical after all.

Luke… Leia winces, hoping her brother is safe.

Leia pushes the unfamiliar cockpit open and squints into the darkness surrounding her. Her aching head doesn’t make the task any easier. She tries to climb out of the ship, only to realize she’s no longer wearing her practical white jumpsuit, but rather a rustic tan tunic and a voluminous brown robe. She trips on the edge of the too-long robe.

Leia falls. The last thing she remembers is a blurry outline of a city, and a man in silver armor approaching her. Once more her vision fades to black.

* * *

“Dad!” A child’s voice calls. Leia blinks, trying hard to rouse herself. There’d been no children at the abandoned Jedi temple… “She’s awake!”

“Is she?” that voice, deeper, warmer, is one belonging to an adult. Leia rubs her face, and finally, her vision clears, just as a man sits on the edge of the cot she seems to have been placed on.The cot, much like the room, is both bright and non-descript, lacking in any sort of identifying details. The man, though, is rather full of... details. The sort of details Leia can't help but notice, like his rugged features or his strong physique. The loose blue shirt he wears does nothing to hide the power of a well-trained body beneath. A memory flickers, of what she'd seen right before she fell. A man wearing armor. Mandalorian armor, maybe? Or had she just imagined that?

“Uh, hello,” Leia tries to sound both calm and self-assured, though she feels neither. “I am… Leelah.” She lies quickly, adjusting her name just enough that she can say it with a conviction she barely feels, given her aching head and sore body.

“Jango,” he replies, offering the name so quickly she has no idea if it’s his first name or a surname, or even an expression on whatever this planet is.

“Forgive me for being confused,” Leia says, erring on the side of politeness. “I think I… fell? Perhaps. From, uh, a ship?” Even though none of that made sense. She’d been in that ancient temple with Luke only moments before. How had she ended up in a ship, let alone in an entirely different outfit? Leia lifts one arm to stare down at the coarse brown robe that is at least three sizes too big.

The man watches her, his face revealing none of his thoughts. His eyes are a dark, rich brown that Leia finds herself a little unable to meet for more than a moment. She’s not used to finding her intensity matched by someone else’s own stare. Nor is she used to being the flustered one. “You did have trauma to your head when my son found you,” he says.

Leia tries to remember those strange moments as she’d exited the ship. There had been a boy, dressed in a blue tunic, and a… a person wearing some sort of armor. Not a stormtrooper’s armor, no, and not Boba Fett’s, either. It had gleamed too brightly, as silver as the moon that had once hung in Alderaan’s night sky. “I’m glad he did,” Leia replies. “Is he around? I owe him my thanks.”

The man shakes his head. “You’ll stay here. I need to know exactly who you are. We were not expecting any strangers to land here.”

“But the docking bay was empty,” Leia protests.

“So it was,” he nods, agreeing with her. “A mistake that I had no part in making. So, tell me Leelah, why have you come here, to Kamino?”

“Kamino?” Leia asks, sounding nearly incredulous. She knows the planet’s name, recognizes it as an early adopter of cloning protocols and a battleground in the early days of the Rebellion, but that didn’t explain why she has somehow strangely appeared here. Everything seems too vivid to be a dream. Did it have to do with that relic Luke had found?

“You don’t remember your own ship’s coordinates?” Jango asks, his dark eyebrows knit together. He doesn’t trust her, Leia realizes, and that seems like a dangerous thing.

“I was drugged.”

“By who?”

“ I trusted someone I shouldn't,” she replies. “I’m…” what lie could she tell? What would keep her safe here, on an unfamiliar planet, watched by a man who appears to be both a kind-hearted father and a dangerously professional soldier. She briefly considers the roles she’s been in her own life. A princess, a diplomat, a military leader, even pretended to be a bounty hunter. But no, none of those would do. This man, Jango, he… he doesn’t seem like the type to be impressed by a high power title, nor scared of a bounty hunter. And so, Leia lands on something far closer to the truth, an identity she has never claimed, though it has haunted her dreams. “I… I’ve lost my home. I’m a refugee, and I went in search of a place to belong.”

That, in its essence, is no lie at all.

“Which world?” he asks. “Your accent’s damn posh for you to be from the outer rim.”

“Alderaan,” she says, quickly, too quickly.

His head tilts. “What sort of trouble does a girl like you have to get in to get kicked off that planet?”

“Kicked… off…” Why did he speak of Alderaan in the present tense? As if it wasn’t gone?

“It’s an expression. You know, booted off. Shipped away.” He shrugs. “I’ve always heard that place is full of peace-loving artists. Couldn’t imagine that King Davidius making anyone leave it.”

“Davidius…” Leia whispers, now aware that she’s repeating Jango, again. That was the name of her maternal grandfather, a man she’s never met… because he passed away over a decade before Leia was born. “What… what year is it?”

When Jango provides the date, though in a clipped tone, it takes all her self control not to gasp. She’s somehow fallen into the past, more than a decade before she was even born. Leia realizes it must have been that damn orb that sent her here, but that knowledge does little good to help her figure what what’s next. Instead, she’s faced with the stern face of a man who looks less pleased every second.

“Why is it, Leelah,” he begins slowly, “that I’m not quite sure I believe your story?”

“Dad!” the young boy cuts in, dashing from the other room. “I believe her. Please. I think she’s… I think she’s nice!”

Jango turns to his son, and though he speaks sternly, there’s no trace of cruelness in his voice. He’s a good father. Leia can tell that much from body language alone. “I need you to stay out of this.”

“But--”

“No buts,” Jango gently turns his son’s shoulder. “Leave us.”

“She’s nice!” the boy says again. “Maybe she’s… she could be the mama I wished for!”

Jango lets out something that sounds like a mix of a laugh and a choking noise. And Leia, for her part, finds herself oddly relieved that the boy's mother, who might have been Jango's wife, doesn't seem to be in the picture. Which is absolutely ridiculous, of course. She should be figuring out how to get home, not daydreaming about the handsome man in front of her. Even if he did have strong hands and incredibly muscular shoulders, forearms that made her heart race, just a bit, and the most kissable lips she'd seen. Even if it was turning out he was quite handsome when he was embarrassed, like he is now, trying to speak ot his son. “You… I... “ While he stammers, Leia pushes herself up to a seated position. She’s close enough she could reach the hilt of the blaster in Jango’s belt, but she’s not stupid enough to try.

“I did wish for a mother,” the boy insists.

“I know, Boba, I just…”

Just as Leia carefully extends her hand to take the pistol, that remark stops her in her tracks. Boba? As in Boba Fett? She stares down at the little boy, who can’t be more than seven years old. He’s cute, with a mess of dark hair and an impertinent nose. He looks nothing like a person who would become the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy. Then again… Luke had asked the orb to help them find Boba Fett.

He’d just forgotten to specify in which time period he wanted to locate him.

“Leelah,” Jango says, his words polite but his tone icy. “I think it’s time we get some answers from you.”

“I gave you answers,” Leia stalls for time, desperate now that she realizes exactly how she ended up here. Does this mean the rather incredibly handsome man in front of her is… Boba Fett’s father? And if that was the case then… Leia shakes her head. She can’t afford any distracting thoughts. Not when…

The sense she knows she should call the Force prickles at the back of her neck, sending a clear message. Danger. Fast approaching. Leia leaps into action, just as the droid appears beyond her in the doorway, dropping its cloaking and and raising its blaster.

“Boba!” Jango yells, reaching out to shelter his son with his body.

Leia’s hand shoots out, grabbing Jango’s pistol.

“Escaped Clone Alert.” The droid says, or tries to say, because Leia’s blaster hits it square in the chest, knocking it backward with enough force it drops the blaster. The tinny voice box breaks out the rest of the message. “Escaped… alert…”

And then, it is silent, and Jango is staring up at Leia. The remains of the droid lie smoldering on the floor.

“You.. saved my son.” Jango says, but before he’s even finished, Boba Fett throws his arms around Leia’s waist, hugging her tight.

Despite herself, she ruffles his curls, as she would any child. As if this boy won’t grow up to be one of the most feared bounty hunters in the galaxy. As if Leia herself isn’t lost in a distant time. “You’re okay,” she assures the boy, wishing her own nerves were as easy to calm.

“Dad,” Boba whispers, looking up at Jango. “That droid…”

“I’ll handle it.” In his voice, Leia hears an edge of the coldness she remembers in Boba Fett--the Boba Fett from her timeline’s own icy professionalism. But Jango’s is laced with the warmth of a father’s concern, too, making it somehow both more human and all the more dangerous.

Jango taps through a few keys on a comm that looks at least forty years old, which, Leia realizes, means it’s probably quite new, all things considered. “Taun We,” he says, and it’s not a question nor a greeting. “We need to talk.”

The next minutes fly by. Leia sees a glimmer of a tall, graceful non-human that matches what she’s heard of those from Kamino. The planet, she remembers now, was one dedicated to cloning, which explains the droid… though not why it thought little Boba was one. The clones, Leia had been told, had been the first Stormtroopers.

All in all, she figured that though she knew a great deal more about _where_ and _when_ she was, it didn’t make her any safer.

Jango and Taun We, as Leia learns is the name of the Kaminoan, speak to each other in Huttese, their voice a low rumbling secret. Leia curses her lack of knowledge of that language, deemed too rough for a princess, until Boba tugs on her sleeve. “Want to play?” he asks softly. “I’ll let you borrow my favorite speeder toy!”

He holds out a tiny figure of a landspeeder, clearly well-loved. The gesture softens Leia’s heart, and she settles down on the carpet next to Boba to play. For a young child, he has a great deal of poise, as well as opinions on how best to play his favorite games, which has Leia laughing easily. She’s missed this, the soft innocence of childhood, with all her years spent at war.

She catches bits and pieces of Jango’s conversation, but none of what he says seems to make much sense to her. Trade Federation, the Republic… The political intrigue of years gone by is difficult for Leia to remember, especially after the extraordinary long day she’s had.

“Hey,” Boba taps her knee gently. “Miss? Do you want to keep playing? If you’re tired, I understand.”

Leia hears in his soft question the patience of a child raised by a parent who is often preoccupied by work, a patience she knows well. “I’m not too tired,” Leia replies. Her gaze has caught a row of children’s holobooks on a nearby shelf. “Do you like stories, Boba?” It feels odd to say the name of such a fearsome man to such a small boy.

He nods. “Reading’s my _favorite!”_

“And which book is your favorite?”

“The Bravest Little Bantha! Here, let me get it!” He races over to the shelf, nearly tripping over his toes in his enthusiasm, then bounds back to her with the holobook in hand. “Have you read it before?”

No, her reading has been a good deal drier, and devoid of any beautiful illustrations, for quite some time now. “Would you like me to read to you?” she asks.

Boba agrees with an enthusiastic nod. Leia settles herself on the singular couch in the room, finding it more comfortable than its squarish shape might suggest. She shucks off the coarse brown cloak she’d found herself wearing, so that she’s more comfortable in the rustic off-white tunic and leggings, both of which are far too big. The clothes are strange, as is her whole situation, but at least she’s comfortable now. Boba, without hesitation, curls up at her side, wrapping her arm around his shoulder like a blanket. He looks up at her with a smile as she activates the book.

 _Find Boba Fett._ Luke’s words echo in her head. Well, she’s done that. Quite well, in fact.

And then, another one of Luke’s statements echoes, loud enough she has to shake her head to try to clear it, making her hair slide completely loose of the already lopsided bun that had kept it contained. A wave of chestnut locks tumbles down her back, and though her mind is elsewhere, Leia can’t help but notice the way Jango looks at her as it does.

Nor can she forget the soft curl of his lips as he smiles, seeing Boba so at peace.

Leia, though, remains with one foot still in the future, thinking of what Luke had said. _I wish Old Ben was here._

Obi-Wan Kenobi had been a general during the Clone Wars, a Jedi Knight right before the fall of the Republic. And Leia was… in a place that seemed quite focused on cloning, wearing the robes of a Jedi knight.

Had he and Leia traded places?

The thought resonates in Leia’s mind with enough certainty she begins to believe it, a thought that only grows stronger as Taun We leaves, and the door remains open long enough for Leia to see a group of young man walk past, all of them with the same dark hair and even the same faces as each other.

Clones. And given the helmets they carry under one arm, not just clones, but clone troopers. That was right. She remembers now, a history book stating the clones were based on the DNA of a fearsome bounty hunter, one who wore silver Mandalorian armor.

One who, Leia thinks, might be standing there, in the kitchen, watching her read to her son.

The certainty sets into her bones, as if the Force itself is agreeing with her. Leia has come back to the past, back to a time before she was even born, back to a time right before the fall of the Republic she’s spent her life trying to restore.

And strangest of all, Leia thinks, as Boba yawns and cuddles closer, as Jango nods at her, allowing her permission to continue to read, is that she has no desire, not yet at least, to return to the time she’s supposed to call home.

“And the brave little batha,” Leia reads on the second to last page, “never gave up. Not even once.”

“Not even once,” Boba agrees.

While he does, Jango sets an electo-kettle on a heating unit, then pours himself the now-boiling drink, some garishly dark beverage. He takes one sip, and something about the quiet moment is enough to make Leia blush. He walks forward, until he reaches the couch, and leans back against the side, turning his head toward them. His eyebrow lifts as Leia turns to the last page.

She begins to read. “So that is the story of how the brave little bantha…”

“Found himself a wonderful new home,” it’s Jango’s voice that finishes the story, with the warmth and familiarity of a man who has read the children’s book a hundred times.

Leia looks up at him, with something that feels a great deal like hope. Jango lifts a shoulder. “You can stay here for now. Until your memories come back.”

“Really?” Leia begins to say more, ready to thank him for the kindness.

He holds up a warning finger. “On a few conditions.”

“Daaaad,” Boba whines. “She’s nice! She saved my life.”

“And her DNA doesn’t match any known person in the galaxy,” Jango replies.

Leia gasps. “Why you--”

‘You left a hair on my pillow. I had a droid run the data for me.” He shrugs again. “I’m a practical man. Which is why I’ll give you a chance to tell the truth.”

“I’m not sure you’ll believe me if I do that.”

“Try me,” Jango replies. In his words, in his eyes, Leia finds all the signs of a man as stubborn, as intelligent, as strong-willed as she is. It’s a strange feeling, to have traveled through space and time, to a place so very far from home, and yet, somehow, so very familiar.

Boba yawns. “I’m going to go to bed if you two keep talking about boring stuff.”

That makes Leia chuckle. She pats his head. “I’m sorry. Would you like me to read another book instead?”

He shakes his head. “That’s okay. I’m a little sleepy.” He slides off the couch and faces them. “Don’t stay up too late now,” he warns, clearly echoing his own dad’s advice to him, then, trots down the small hallway.

“Boba,” Jango calls. The boy pauses, looking back at him. Leia tries to picture them both, Boba as an adult, Jango in the armor she’d only seen for a moment. She tries to see them as the fearsome bounty hunters she knows them both to be, one in her time, and one, here in the past of a history book. But she can’t see it. Not now. All she can see is a doting father and a happy son, a tiny family completely surrounded by the safety of love. “Sleep well. I’ll be in to tuck you in.”

“I know,” Boba flashes a smile, as brilliant as Alderaan’s own moon, before skipping off down the hall.

After, Jango turns to face Leia, and his face holds none of that fatherly warmth. His expression is cold, cold enough that Leia can’t imagine the helmet is even necessary, not when he can look like that. “The truth, Leelah, starting with your real name.”

“Leia,” she replies, starting with the easiest part first. “My name is Leia. I was adopted, so I can’t give you a surname, not one at least that belongs to me.” Not here, she thinks, where to say it would be, at best, risking a succession crisis, and at worst get her executed for being an imposter to the throne.

“And how did you get here, Leia?”

“I was telling the truth. I have no idea. I woke up in that ship.”

“What do you remember last, before you were on the ship?” Each one of his questions is aimed as careful as a sniper would their rifle. Leia feels that one make a direct hit, knowing her jaw has twitched, giving away the fact that she can remember a great deal more than just that moment.

Falling rocks, shouting for her brother… Leia sighs. “I was a long way from here. There was an artefact. A… Jedi one.”

“But you’re no Jedi, are you?”

Leia lets out a dry snort, because she’s tired, and because it’s nice to hear it said so plainly, when no one else would. No matter how many trainings she’s failed, how many codexes she’s fallen asleep on, Luke insists she still has potential as a Jedi Knight. She knows otherwise, of course, but has humored her brother, because really, she has nothing else she can be. There’s not much demand in the galaxy for a princess without a planet and a general without a war. She has nowhere else to go, but to Luke’s new Jedi Temple, and no goal except to become everything she’s certain she’s not. Quiet. Patient. Peaceful. Leia’s none of those things, no matter how much she tries. And somehow, Jango Fett, whoever he is, has seen that in less than a day. “How could you tell?”

“You used a blaster too well,” Jango’s voice carries the smallest hint of a chuckle. “And too quickly.”

“How so?” Now, Leia’s the one questioning him, something she’s rather sure he’s not used to.

And yet, strangely, he allows it. “Been in enough fights against them to know they never attack like that. Not when there’s a chance to work things out _peacefully,”_ he drawls the word, “and never with a blaster. Not like that.”

“You’re right,” she nods, just once. “I’m no Jedi. I’m… I’m lost, and very far from home.” Her fingers trace over the cover of the holobook. A small, sad smile plays on her lips. “I don’t suppose you’ll believe I’m just a brave little bantha?”

Somehow, those words break through his icy shell. Jango Fett laughs. The sound is as rich as gold and as deep as thunder, the sort of sound that makes one feel warm all over. “You do have nearly enough hair to be one.”

“And I might smell like one,” Leia lifts a sleeve of the cloak and sniffs it, “which I do have to say is an anomaly, given my usual circumstances.”

“Not used to roughing it?”

“Not used to wearing something as scratchy as this,” she gestures at the tunic. “I prefer jumpsuits.”

“PIlot?” he asks.

She shakes her head. “Soldier.”

“For what army?” he folds his arms.

“My planet’s,” she says, quickly. Too quickly. “Alderaan’s.”

“Alderaan is part of the Republic,” he counters.

“We still have an army,” she says, though she knows she’s in trouble. That mirth is gone. He’s back to watching her like a nexu, his muscles all coiled and ready to strike.

“Not since you signed the Treaty of Kuat,” he retorts.

“We changed our minds.” She’s in deep. But she can’t backtrack. If she backtracks, there’s no way she’ll earn his trust. She has to get him to believe her lie, or she’s never going to return home.

“Since when?’

“A while ago,” Leia folds her arms, trying to match his pose. “It’s an old document. The signers died and people moved on.”

“I see. When was it signed, again?”

“7945” Leia says the fact as easily as her own name, having memorized it a long time ago. “Fifty years before the battle of-” she stops herself too late. No. Oh, stars above no. She nearly used the new dating system, the one built around a battle that hasn’t happened yet, and won’t for at least two decades.

“Leia,” he says, slowly. “You’ve already told me _where_ you’re from. Wanna fill me in on when _?”_

After the shock wears off, Leia says, in a small voice, “about sixty years after that treaty was signed.”

“Ah,” he nods, just once. “That explains it then.”

“You believe me?”

“There’s many strange things in this galaxy. I’ve seen enough of them myself. So, you’re from the future then? Fine. So be it. As long as you mean no harm to my son, you can stay here for the night.”

“I… can?” that seemed too easy.

“I appreciate honesty, Leia.” Jango pushes off the side of the couch. “And for what it’s worth, you saved Boba’s life. I owe you a warm bath, a change of clothes, and a hot meal. That’s the way I was raised, and that’s the example I’m setting for my son.”

Leia blinks. Out of all the possible outcomes, this certainly seems the strangest. “And in the morning?”

“You’ll get on that ship and head off somewhere else. I don’t give a damn where.” he offers her one last shrug, and this time, Leia can’t help but imagine what those shoulders look like without a shirt covering them. What they’d look like supporting him as he bends over her to kiss her. A stupid, foolish thought, but given that she, a former spy, someone trained to resist Imperial interrogation had just surrendered all that information to a stranger, she just might be willing to call herself foolish. At least, Leia decides, where someone as handsome and intelligent as Jango Fett is concerned. He says, ‘Fresher’s at the end of the hall and I’ve left you a clean tunic. Can’t promise it’s not just as scratchy as yours, though.”

“I’m sure it’s lovely,” she replies, resorting to her royal manners. “Thank you.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it. I’m a simple man. I don’t do luxuries. Or charity. You’re here because you saved my son. That’s it.”

She knows enough about people, and can guess enough about Jango, that she’s pretty sure he’s not telling the truth himself. Not with his last line, nor with the way his eyes follow her as she stands, bows her head to him in thanks, and heads down the hall.


	2. Chapter 2

Leia takes a long time in the ‘fresher. Long enough to wash her hair, as well as scrub her thoughts, trying hard to regain a sense of composure. She’s in the past. She’s _decades_ in the past and worlds away from Luke. It had to be the work of the Jedi device, but that doesn’t help her figure out what to do next. 

For now, she figures she needs to survive, first of all, and then, come up with a better plan once she’s gained her footing here. At the very least, she’s glad she’s lost in time now, when there’s no war raging in her timeline, no Rebellion to need her.

And that makes a small, strange feeling twist in her stomach. She’s not needed in the future, in her timeline. Not the way she used to be. She’s wanted, and that’s nice, but it’s the soft sort of want that comes from being a member of a friend group, or a Jedi-in-training. Leia misses being needed. 

Before the war, she had a purpose. She was the princess of Alderaan, the future ruler. She had classes to attend and a legacy to build. As much as she sometimes hated the weight of the crown, she loved it too. There were moments, even then, she could see a glorious future ahead of her, a path forward for Alderaan that would make all of its beauty grow, a way to protect its storied history for an age.

And in an instant, all of those plans, all of that awaited future, was obliterated. 

Then, the war took over, and with it, the fires of combat kept her mind occupied. She didn’t need to grieve or to consider the future as long as there was an upcoming battle. As long as she could study mission plans and schematics, she didn’t have to study her own thoughts. The war, as awful as it was, turned out to be a place Leia could belong. All her training as a princess melded with all her dreams of being a warrior. As a commander, she had her purpose. She was needed. 

But when peace came, after the relief of that, came the fears. That she had no purpose beyond that she’d found in a command room. That the galaxy had no place for a commander, and her friends would begin to forget her when they no longer needed her tactical advice.

Luke wanted her to find her future as a Jedi. She wasn’t quite sure that was where her heart’s path led. She missed the idea of of a home, a family. She missed all that she had taken for granted on Alderaan.

A moment passes, where she recalls how nice it had been to read to Boba, how the small bit of domestic bliss in an otherwise rather ludicrous day dampened all the stress. How strange to think Boba Fett had been raised here, in this cozy little apartment on this forgotten planet. Stranger still to wonder who his mother had been, and what role Jango had with the cloning of troopers.

Leia hesitates, doing math in her head, and then, comes to a conclusion she decides to set aside once more.

After that, she figures she’s had enough pondering, and turns off the ‘fresher. There’s a towel waiting for her, as monochromatic as the rest of the decor, but sturdy and thankfully not scratchy. She also notes there’s a clean tunic and pair of trousers waiting for her, both neatly folded with crisp precision. The trousers are far too long on her, so she sticks to the tunic alone, exiting the ‘fresher as she twists her dark hair into a side braid.

She finds Jango at the small kitchen, busy eating some simple meal of noodles and broth, which he pauses, mid-spoon-to-mouth, as she walks toward him.

“Looks good,” he grunts out, and then, his eyes flash with understanding as he realizes he’s spoken what he’d meant to only think.

In return, Leia just smiles at him, the sort of smug grin that she knows has won many hearts, though never one that matters. This time, she’s pleased to notice how it makes the smallest hint of a blush appear on Jango’s tan skin. She takes her time walking over to the small kitchen, knowing the tunic is barely long enough to be decent, and knowing too, that Jango’s gaze is following every swing of her hips.

It’s not that she’s thinking of seducing him. It’s just that… Leia lets out a small sigh as she reaches the countertop, leaning her forearms against it, as if she belongs here. As if this is her home, and not a stranger’s kitchen decades in the past. But that’s just it. Leia wants a home. She wants a place to return to, someone to welcome her in, not a cold bunk in yet another empty base. She wants, she finds herself thinking, a place like this.

“You alright?” he asks her.

“Why do you care?” she replies, without a shred of anger, just careful calculation.

He shrugs. “Maybe I don’t.”

“That seems more fitting.” Leia nods at the bottle on the edge of the table. It’s uncorked, letting the scent of an herbal liquor draft out of it. The smell is both tart and piney, and oddly familiar. “Long day?”

“Maybe,” he replies. “I seem to be stuck with an unwanted roommate, currently.”

“And I seem to be stuck on a miserable, rainy planet without a clue how I got here,” Leia replies. 

“Does that mean you want a drink?”

“Maybe,” she steals his word from him with a small smile. She tells herself this flirting is just for her own protection, but she knows she’s lying. 

Jango turns to an upper cabinet, opening it and selecting a glass, and in doing so, his loose shirt sleeve falls back, revealing his muscular forearm again. She notices more than one wicked scar, and thinks once more about the armor. “Boba tells me you’re a bounty hunter.”

“He’s right.” Jango flips the glass right-side up on the counter. “He’s not supposed to say that, but he is right.”

“I…” and now it’s Leia’s turn to blush, unnerved. “I didn’t say that to get him in trouble. Please. I’m sure he didn’t--”

“You care about him.” Jango speaks with all the careful artistry of a painter, as if each word is equal to a stroke of his brush. “You actually care.”

“Of course I do. He’s a sweet kid.”

Jango shakes his head. “I’ve heard Core Worlders are soft, and Alderaanians the softest of all.. I didn’t realize that they’re as sentimental as the sea is wet.”

“We’re gentle,” she argues, fighting the tide of emotions that rises with the very thought of Alderaan, of her home, in the present tense. “Not soft.”

He lifts an eyebrow as he pours them both a drink. The liquid sloshes into each glass, revealing it to be a pale green in color. Jango’s jaw sets in a determined manner, a dare as much as any that can be said with words.

Leia, in response to that silent counter, picks up her glass and knocks the entire beverage back. It burns, but she fights the need to cough. She has a point to prove, after all, and she’s never stronger than when she’s stubbornly trying to prove she’s right. So, even though the beverage tastes like the cross between licking the oldest pine tree on Endor and drinking liquid fire, Leia keeps a calm face.

She remembers the taste now. It’s Corellian fire-gin, and the last time she’d drank it, she’d ended her night standing on a table and singing Alderaanian sporting-area-songs.

Jango keeps looking at her, with something that’s both amusement and… desire, Leia realizes, in his gaze. The emotions warm his features, and his voice too, as he says, “Leia.”

It’s the first time he’s said her name, her real name, and it’s enough to make her knees weak. She forces herself to stay calm, though, as she pushes his still-full glass toward him. “Your turn.”

Eyebrow raised, he drains the glass. “I don’t back down,” he says.

“Neither do I.”

Jango steps forward. His hand reaches out, cupping Leia’s cheek, and then, it’s as if she’s jumped into hyperspace without a ship. The kiss is incredible like that, making her feel as if she’s flying, as if the boundaries of space and time have vanished, because, in some ways, they have. She’s found everything she’s wanted in a man who exists decades before her. But she pushes that thought out of her mind, letting instead the kiss be everything she wants it to be.

Letting herself feel his rough fingers stroke down her neck as his gentle lips press against hers, the thudding beat of his heart and the urgency in his breath. 

She reaches up, letting her hands curl around the curve of his shoulder blades, feeling the strong muscles of his back. As soon as she does, Jango drops his own hands to her hips, then, neatly lifts her to set her on the counter. Her legs wrap around him, her ankles crossing, locking them both together. It’s been a lifetime since she’s felt desire this strong, strong enough to burn away her better sense. As he deepens the kiss, rocking his body against hers, a wave passionate and wild, steals all of Leia’s careful composure in an instant. His touch reminds her of the first time she’d sat in a pilot’s cockpit, the first time she’d ignited her lightsaber. It crackles with power, whispers with danger, and beckons her forward, toward the freedom of the unknown.

And then, one of them knocks a glass over.

It shatters against the floor, the crystalline noise enough for both of them to spring apart, half-embarrassed and half-flustered. 

They blink at each other, both of them slowly returning to reality. Jango’s breathing is ragged and Leia can feel the flush of her own face. 

“I’m S-” he begins.

“Don’t apologize,” Leia cuts him off. “That was quite enjoyable.”

“Quite,” he repeats the word, shaking his head. “I see the future hasn’t made you Core Worlders any less haughty,”

“I…” it’s her turn to trail off. Is she still a Core Worlder if she has no home to return to? “You believe me then? About the future?”

“Your DNA doesn’t exist anywhere,” he replies. “I scanned every database available. I could find two matches for parts of it, which suggests your bio parents are…”

“They’re alive, at this time,” she cuts him off. “But I have no wish to meet them.” It’s too much to think about, the idea of meeting the man who would become Darth Vader, before his fall. Or worse, to meet the queen of Naboo and not warn her of the fact that her love would lead to her death. Because if Leia stopped her parents from meeting… would she stop existing at all? The idea was too much to think about. “I was adopted,” she says. 

“Do you want to find them?” he asks. 

She shakes her head at that too. Bail and Breha would surely have enough other issues at the moment than dealing with a daughter nearly the same age as them. “It’s… complicated.” Matters of royal succession mixed with time travel certainly would be. “I just… I believe I’ll find a way back to my home… my home timeline that is. I guess. If that makes sense.”

He shrugs again, the motion somehow all the more tempting now that she’s felt the muscles there, the strength in his arms and the power of his body. “Like I said. This galaxy is full of strange things.”

“Thank you.” Leia leans up, and, this time, very aware of the action, kisses him. Just on the cheek, feeling his stubble brush her lips. Jango catches her, turns her head, so the kiss once more deepens to something as wild as a forest fire. Her nails dig into those shoulders she’d just admired, and his hands span her hips, pressing her against a desire that is apparent.

And yet, both of them break apart once more. The kiss ends as suddenly as it begins. Placing a hand on her chest, Leia tries to catch her breath. Jango leans past her and pours himself another drink. He downs it, then wipes his lips. “You should probably go to bed,” he whispers.

“Where?” she replies, the question slipping out as her blush burns,

He chuckles, low. “Not in my bed, I’ll say that much.” There’s a moment's pause, as if he’s calculating risks and rewards in his head. His calloused hand strokes her cheek, so tender it makes her knees weak. “Not tonight, anyway.”

“I thought you were kicking me out in the morning.”

“We’ll see.” Jango chuckles, then, presses a single kiss to her forehead. 

Leia blinks, amazed, then, even more so when she catches the same bafflement on Jango’s face. “I,” she begins. “I didn’t--”

“Come to the past with an intent to seduce a stranger? No, I don’t assume you did.”

Leia laughs. Jango’s quick wit, she’s finding just as attractive as his looks. She’d met plenty of handsome men, and more than a few smooth-talking ones. But this man, with his dangerous edge, his smarts, and his tenderness toward his son, this man is proving to be rather one of a kind.


End file.
